


innocence came screaming

by moonythejedi394



Series: the same story; told different ways [16]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Animal Sacrifice, Bottom Steve Rogers, Creepy Alexander Pierce, Dark fic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Don't copy to another site, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, Great Old Ones, Human Sacrifice, Interspecies Sex, Lovecraftian Monster(s), M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Steve Rogers, Pagan god Bucky Barnes, Paganism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poisoning, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonythejedi394/pseuds/moonythejedi394
Summary: There had been no rain since the beginning of spring. The crops were dying. The river, what little freshwater they had on their island, was drying up. The village well was, too. They had made many sacrifices to the Great God of the Deep, and yet, the air remained dry. At last, in final desperation, the priests announced that a sacrifice of greater caliber was needed.“Only the sacrifice of a young, unbred Omega will turn away the Great Old One’s anger,” the high priest said to Steve. “You will honor your people.”Thus, he was left to die in the Great Old One's temple. The Great Old One, however, had other plans for him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: the same story; told different ways [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/974361
Comments: 43
Kudos: 910





	innocence came screaming

**Author's Note:**

> _y'all this heavy dub-con with little moral purpose. steve is given a potion that will induce his heat and then ultimately kill him, tho to be fair he doesn't die. there is no communication of whether steve consents to anything until it's already happening, at which point steve's a bit too off the deep end to be really clear-headed enough for consent. perhaps the fact that he's destined to be the consort of a great old one makes it better? let's not question that._
> 
> _also, alastar is the irish version of alexander, so when you meet the priest character alastar, it's really pierce. steve's name is also technically stiofán, which is the old irish version of steven; it's pronounced sch-ti-o-faun or something like that. fun stuff, on we go._

#  **_innocence came screaming_ **

The deep.

It is one of humanity’s common, most rational fears. The ocean is vast, largely unexplored, and _wild._ Since you first ventured from caves, huts, forests, since you first saw waves lapping at the shore, you have known to fear the expanse of blue.

You were right to do so.

*

There had been no rain since the beginning of spring. The crops were dying. The river, what little freshwater they had on their island, was drying up. The village well was, too. It was nearing the height of summer and the air was yet dry. The heat was only getting worse.

The priests have sacrificed bulls. Lambs, ducks, goats. Desperate, the Alphas hunted and killed a bear and brought it to the temple. Rain did not come.

“The time has come,” the high priest, Alastar, announced to the village. “Our village has earned the spite of the Great Old One and naught but the highest of gifts will turn this tide of doom away from us.”

Stiofán, or Steve for short, stood near the edge of the crowd, holding onto his head covering with tight fingers. He had heard the whispers.

“To appease the Great Old One,” Alastar said, “we must sacrifice one of our own. One of our most precious citizens.”

Steve hugged himself tighter as several people, almost the whole crowd, turned to look at him. He wanted to shake his head. He was precious to no one. The god would know, they were not sacrificing anyone of real importance. He could only stand still.

Alastar looked at him, as well.

“Come forward, Stevie,” he said gently.

Steve bowed his head in resignation. He stepped forward, his bare feet making hardly a sound in the dirt. The crowd parted for him. He stopped just in front of the priests and lowered himself to a knee respectfully.

Alastar touched his head and looked down at him like he was sorry, but Steve knew better. They weren’t desperate enough that they would risk someone they really cared about. Nobody wanted Steve, he was too sick and weak to bear children, to work in the fields, to do really anything. He used to paint and make books for the priests, but clearly, that still wasn’t enough.

“Only the sacrifice of a young, unbred Omega will turn away the Great Old One’s anger,” the high priest said. “You will honor your people.”

Steve glared at Alastar’s sandals. The Great Old One would only be offended by him. Perhaps, after the god was done with Steve, he would raze the village. It was what these people deserved.

The villagers dispersed back to their homes to escape the heat. Steve was lifted onto the back of an ox by one of the Alphas that had brought down the bear. She looked at him sadly as she stepped away, to return to her home and family. Steve didn’t care for her pity.

At least he didn’t have to walk. The temple was on the other side of the island, built into a cliff and a natural cave that accessed the sea. Steve was able to lie forward over the ox’s neck and rest as they made the journey. The priests did not speak, they sang, low and guttural chants as they journeyed to the temple. Steve had thought their chants ominous before. Now, the song was just a funeral march.

They reached the temple as the sun was sinking into the ocean for its rest. Alastar led the way inside, lighting a torch just outside the doors; the fire burned green somehow. Three of the priests had to pull on the ox’s leads to get it inside. Steve wished he could fight the way the animal did. He wished he was clueless of his fate the way the animal was. He wished he didn’t know that to fight was ultimately hopeless.

Inside, the chanting echoed along the stone. They traveled down sloped hallways into the heart of the cliff. The ox tossed his head and snorted, kicked his feet and lashed his tail the closer they got. Steve was only the slightest bit curious as they neared the end; no one but the priests had been inside the temple before. No one, at least, that had left to tell about it.

The hallway ended in tall stone doors, carved with the symbol of the Great Old One; the narrowed eyes and the reaching tentacles that took the place of a beard. Steve sat upright. Alastar handed his torch to another, then took down two more and with the first, lit them. They burned green, as well. Steve’s heart was beating quickly despite his resignation.

Alastar handed the two torches off, as well. Then he put both hands on the doors and with a long push, he forced them open. The doors groaned as they scraped the floor. The priests abruptly began a new chant, this one louder and faster. Steve refused to feel fear.

They entered the chamber. Steve looked around and saw pillars with carved snakes or tentacles, he couldn’t tell. The floor was carved in a huge, circular symbol, one he guessed had some great importance because he had never seen it before. The chamber, round and huge, was cut off at the far end to make a crescent and water lapped at the walls and floor. A large altar sat just before the pool. There was dried blood on it already.

The ox bellowed and started to dance on the spot with apprehension. Steve grabbed onto the bridle, suddenly worried he would be thrown off.

“Give it the salts,” Alastar called.

One of the priests came forward and pulled a jar from his robes; he opened it and held it under the ox’s nose. Rapidly, the ox’s bellows quieted to low snorts and it stilled. Steve glanced at the jar of salts almost longingly, wondering if they would give him something before the final act.

“Come here, Omega,” Alastar commanded.

The order put his mind at ease almost as abruptly as the ox had calmed. Steve moved off the ox’s back without even meaning to. He walked forward, hands inside his sleeves, and knelt down in the center of the circular symbol next to Alastar. A few priests took the ox to the altar and tied it there, then the rest of them gathered around the edges of the circle, and their chanting got louder.

Alastar wordlessly removed Steve’s head covering. Steve jolted, startled and suddenly, truly, afraid. He hadn't known they would take his clothes from him; he wanted to cry out, say it wasn’t fair, but his jaw was shut with naked fear. 

Alastar took a knife from his robes and instead cut the scarf into strips. He tied some together to lengthen them, others left by themselves. Steve looked around, heart beating rapidly in his chest, as he wondered what was going to happen; would they strip him naked totally? Alastar moved behind him and before Steve could turn, one of the torn strips from his scar was wrapping around his face, covering his eyes. 

“No,” Steve gasped, “you don’t have to –”

Alaster put another strip in his mouth and tied it tightly. Steve whimpered around it.

The chanting surrounded him. Steve was frozen in place, too afraid to move. After his head covering, his robe was ripped off down the back. Steve numbly lifted his arms to allow it to be taken off him, then he hugged himself and shivered, feeling like a thousand eyes were on his bare skin. All he wore then was his loincloth, which was not nearly enough. Then hands and ropes touched his body and Alastar, at least Steve guessed that was who it was, bound his wrists behind his back, his arms to his body, his knees, and feet in place. Steve could only aim his head down and pray it would be over soon. It felt odd to be praying when he knew their god would soon be – be doing whatever it was the Great Old One did with a human sacrifice.

Alastar pulled on his shoulders and Steve stood up on his knees. Then the gag was pulled from his mouth and instead, a cup was pressed to his lips. Steve was startled, liquid sloshed over his mouth, but he quickly drank. Whatever it was was overwhelmingly sweet. He found he needed air and tried to pull back, but Alastar grabbed his head and poured the liquid into his mouth anyway. Steve coughed and choked, the liquid spilled over his face, and he gulped as much of it as he could. Alastar relented for a moment and Steve sucked in much-needed air. Alastar only gave him a moment, then he was tipping the vessel again and pouring more of the sickeningly sweet liquid into Steve’s mouth. Steve gulped it down, choked again, and then it was gone.

Alastar let go of him and his presence abated. Steve gasped for air, trembling as he knelt on the hard, cold stone. 

Hands grabbed at the cloth around his hips. Steve gasped, out of fright this time, and tried to cry out, but found that his tongue was going numb. Alastar unknotted his loincloth and removed it. Steve was left completely naked.

Steve let out a whimper that was half shame, half rage. The priests continued to chant their ominous song and Steve bent over his lap, trying to hide his body from their eyes. His lips going numb along with his tongue, he fumbled to whisper a curse on the priests and the village that had abandoned him. He’d be faced with the Great Old One soon enough. He would make his plea in person. 

Alastar shouted something, a word Steve didn’t recognize. The chanting stopped.

“Hear me!” Alastar shouted. “I speak your secret and most holy name, master of the deep, Bhu’Khannïn!”

Steve, trembling, mouthed the Great Old One’s name. His body was succumbing to an intense chill, one that made his very bones feel like they were rattling to ward off the cold.

“We have left you many gifts!” Alastar called. His voice echoed in the chamber. “Still, we know we have not met your pleasure. We hope that this gift, this untouched Omega, a child of our own people, will finally be worth your acceptance. Send us rain, Bhu’Khannïn!”

“Send us rain, great master of the deep!” the other priests repeated.

“We give to you our most sacred of intimacies!” Alastar called. “Behold, this virgin will begin his heat here in your temple!”

Steve’s eyes snapped open behind the cloth. He wheezed a vague plea and tried to strain against the ropes. His body was shaking violently now, and he recognized that the chill wasn’t cold, it was fever. Intense fever so hot it felt the opposite. 

He tried to hiss out another curse and found his face too weak to even change now.

“Master of the deep, you will see what is most precious to us!” Alastar shouted. “We ask you to take this virgin as yours and to do with him as you see fit, for once his heat reaches its climax, the potion he took will complete its journey and he will die!”

Figures, Steve thought absently.

“All we ask is for rain,” Alastar said. “Send us rain, Lord and Ocean-master Bhu’Khannïn!”

“Hail the master of the deep!” the other priests called.

“Hail the master of the deep!” Alastar repeated.

“Hail!”

“Hail!”

The priests resumed their ominous chant. Steve collapsed onto the ground, his limbs jerking in the ropes. He coughed, choked on his own spit, and turned his head to the side enough to let it drool from the corner of his lips as he lay there. He heard Alaster step past him. The vague green glow on the other side of the blindfold began to move. The priests followed Alastar, taking the torches and their chanting with them. The heavy doors shut.

Steve was left in silence. The ox let out a low bellow, like a cry of grief. Steve couldn’t move voluntarily still. He felt his ass clenching and relaxing as he started producing slick. He felt like the room was spinning.

The cloth over his eyes loosened. Steve blinked. The ox bellowed again, then there was complete silence. Steve couldn’t even hear his own heartbeat, which was going like a war-drum in his chest, so fast it hurt. The silence stretched. Then the cloth slid off his face entirely.

It was pitch black regardless. Steve blinked, then shut his eyes, frightened by the darkness. His mouth was regaining some feeling, but his heart still beat painfully, his limbs still shook violently.

Steve coughed. It echoed around him. He couldn’t hear the ox anymore.

**“Do they expect me to eat you?”**

Steve inhaled sharply, stricken by fear. The darkness had not changed, he still couldn’t see anything, but there was _something there._ Steve tried to clear his throat, swallow, sit up, anything.

Something wet and warm touched his cheek. Steve jerked away from it, biting his tongue to hold back any sound from his throat. His body was overwhelmingly hot now, there was an ache in his chest connected to his clenching asshole, and his cock was throbbing in the air. He felt nothing but innate fear.

**“Those fools,”** the distant voice hummed. **“So dramatic.”**

The voice was nothing like Steve had ever heard. And really, he wasn’t even _hearing_ it. It vibrated out of his own chest, out of his bones, out of the ground and the water and the darkness itself. It whispered inside his head, a soft murmur gentler than he would have thought would come from a god.

The ropes fell away. Steve jerked his arms and legs out and couldn’t stop himself from exhaling a satisfied moan at the intense stretch he felt. He heard a deep, rumbling chuckle.

**“I will not eat you.”**

Steve tried to search the darkness and found nothing. He was panting now, his whole body burning with the forced arousal. His ass hurt now, like he was days into heat and unsatisfied with no one to knot him, but it had barely been minutes.

The wet and cool thing wrapped around Steve’s forearm. Steve jerked, letting out an involuntary whimper, but something else wet and cool wrapped around his other arm. Then there were dozens, wet appendages wrapping around him. They were a relief to his intense fever, but not to the terror gripping him. Steve was lifted off the stone completely, cradled by the wet – He could only guess they were the god’s tentacles. 

**“You seem like you would be an unsatisfying meal,”** the voice said. 

Steve’s tongue was still too numb to form words. He let out a vague but angry sound instead. The god only laughed.

**“You will come with me now,”** the god said. **“It would be a shame to let those fools to take you back.”**

Fools, yes, Steve thought vaguely. But he would rather be put back down and allowed to burn up with his fever.

Almost as quickly as the tentacles had lifted him, Steve found himself being lowered into water. He gasped, jerked and tried to fight, but the god didn’t seem to even notice. The water covered his legs, arms, then torso. He shouted. The water covered his face.

**“Do not be afraid,”** the god said then. **“Inhale, sweetheart.”**

Steve jerked against the tentacles. His lungs burned.

**“You can breathe,”** the god continued.

Steve clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. He felt foggy. The tentacles wrapped tighter around his torso and something nudged his lips. Steve, dizzy for air, gasped instinctively.

Air filled his lungs. Not water. In fact, there wasn’t even water surrounding him anymore, he was perfectly dry.

**“There,”** the god said, sounding pleased. **“Was that so difficult?”**

Steve gulped in the air gratefully. The tentacles loosened around his body, then Steve felt something soft and pleasantly warm cushioning his back. He was lowered into it, his body frankly sank into it. Heat was twisting his mind’s function and the relief of the warm bed under him had him letting out a quiet whimper.

The god chuckled.

**“I was wondering what the fools would do next,”** the god said. **“I expected more blood and gore, however, this is a pleasant surprise. I’m delighted to have you, my pet.”**

The primal part of him curled in happiness and stoked the flame of his arousal. Steve only searched the darkness again, trying to pick out the shape of the Great Old One. He still could see nothing.

**“I wonder…”** the god murmured.

Steve felt tentacles wrapping around his legs, then they were being pulled apart. His body was betraying him, he wanted to scream, to curse the village, the priests, the god _himself._

**“There is no need to be afraid,”** the god said as the tentacles slid up Steve’s legs. **“I feel what you feel, precious.”**

Steve made a few vague noises. A single tentacle, just the moist tip, slid up the inside of his thigh, then it was slipping between Steve’s asscheeks and rubbing against his hole.

The potion, whatever it had been, had made Steve’s body succumb to a heat more intense than he’d ever felt in his life. As the wet tip of the god’s tentacle pressed just lightly against his aching hole, the coiled arousal in his body swelled and rapidly burst. He came with a helpless moan, overwhelmed by the sudden orgasm.

**“What a sight,”** the god said.

Steve whimpered. More tentacles wrapped around his legs, spreading them out and up, then even more wrapped around his arms, bringing them up over his head. These were slim, cool, surprisingly strong. As the touch to his cunt retreated, Steve found himself flexing against the tentacles to push his hips out.

**“Shh,”** the god murmured, **“have no fear, sweet boy, I do not desire to harm you.”**

Steve wasn’t exactly reassured, but it was becoming difficult to focus on his fear and anger when his body was filling with such pleasure in comparison to the intense pain. He was spread open for the god and Steve could only wonder if the god could see in the darkness.

**“I desire your pleasure,”** the god then said.

Another tentacle, this one significantly warmer, pressed against Steve’s hole. He gasped, his eyes rolling back, and the tentacle breached him with barely any strain. His body sang as he was filled and the last bit of resistance in him was squashed out. He moaned and clenched down on the hot appendage inside him. He felt suckers plucking at his inner walls and the tentacle reached so deep, he wondered if it would never end. 

**“That’s it,”** the god said. **“You are mine now.”**

Steve nodded. He could accept this. This wasn’t such a bad way to die.

Abruptly, a hand touched him. Steve jolted and the hand was joined by a second. The tentacle in his ass twisted and he couldn’t help but moan again, but he was startled by _hands._ Then the hands had wrists, arms that were pressing on either side of his torso, and he felt – he felt _hair._ Lips pressed to his neck, soft and warm, but not wet the way the tentacles were. He could tell that a man was leaning over him now, a man, and he couldn’t connect the feeling of the god’s tentacles with the touch of the man’s skin.

**“I know you want to feel good,”** the god’s voice said as the man’s lips brushed against Steve’s skin. **“I will give you that pleasure, pet.”**

Trembling, Steve just nodded. The god kissed his collar bone, then pressed another to his chest. The god had hands and arms and lips, like a man. But tentacles wrapped around Steve’s limbs and pinned him down and that deliciously warm tentacle twisted in and out of Steve’s hole.

Steve accepted it.

The god kissed his chest, along his stomach. Steve was more focused on the tentacle in his body, still moving, just teasing him. He whined and clenched his hole, pushing his hips up and out, and the god chuckled again. Steve didn’t know what he expected, but then _another_ hot tentacle was pushing at his rim and Steve could only gasp in excited pleasure. The god’s hands spanned his waist, petting him, as the second tentacle forced its way into Steve’s body. Steve moaned more, clenched on both tentacles now, and rocked his hips back and forth. A third tentacle touched his hip and Steve now realized that these warmer ones were spongier, stickier, and had larger suckers. He could feel that the tips were bulbous compared to the tapered ends of the cool ones. This third tentacle pushed up the line of his hip towards his stomach, then a fourth joined it, and a fifth. Steve whimpered and clenched tightly on the two inside him and a sixth pushed at his rim. He whined, nodding quickly, and the god just chuckled, then forced it inside him.

The tentacles touching his stomach moved up until the suckers were pulling at his nipples. Steve moaned again, finding that his tongue was regaining almost enough feeling to form real words, but couldn’t think of anything to say. The god’s hands remained at his waist and Steve could feel weight between his thighs, like whatever body the god had, it was perched between his legs. The third of the tentacles outside his body went up his chest, up his throat, and then Steve felt it sliding up his face. He let his jaw fall open and immediately, the bulbous tip of the tentacle was filling his mouth.

It tasted sweet. Not like the potion, this was truly _sweet._ Like a perfectly ripe berry, with just a hint of tartness to balance it. The sticky fluid turned smooth in Steve’s mouth and he sucked on it, eagerly swallowing the sweetness. In an abrupt change, the numbness to his face, hands, and body was gone. His tongue was fully useable, but Steve didn’t cry out. He curled the tip of his tongue around a sucker and continued to drink eagerly the tentacle’s secretions.

**“So sweet,”** the god murmured. **“The mortals that pretend to worship me must be even bigger fools than I thought to have given you away so easily, and with such relief. They are fools to have held you in any contempt.”**

Steve shook his head, humming around the tentacle. The god sighed and leaned over him again, pressing a kiss to his concave stomach.

**“You are the most valuable gift I have ever received,”** the god said, **“and I shall treasure and cherish you as such.”**

Steve shook his head. He didn’t want to hear this, not when it would be the last thing he heard.

**“You do not believe,”** the god replied to himself. **“But I shall make you understand, no matter. Relax, my treasure. Enjoy what you feel.”**

The tentacle in his mouth somehow, amazingly, thickened and pushed deeper. He whimpered and opened his mouth further to receive it, swallowing rapidly around it. The three in his ass twisted together and suddenly the bulbs hit a spot inside him that made him gasp, arching up as his eyes rolled back in his head. The god kissed his stomach, then licked his navel. Steve whined more. The tentacles at his chest plucked at his nipples and twisted around them, working them into peaks. Steve rocked back against the forces in his hole, then two more warm tentacles slid over his hips. They wrapped around his cock.

Steve almost screamed as he came. The tentacles inside him started alternative thrusts, hammering into the spot that felt good. The tentacles around his cock squeezed and twisted, sliding up and down his short length. The god let out a long sigh.

**“You are most satisfying,”** the god said. **“I shall enjoy keeping you.”**

Steve whined. The god leaned over him again and kissed up his torso, then his lips were at Steve’s neck and brushing over his scent gland.

**“Give in to me, my sweet,”** the god told him, **“and I shall make you give the most exquisite of pleasures, the most delicious of tastes, all that is divine shall be yours.”**

Steve nodded his head deliriously; if this was how he was meant to die, it was a hell of a way to go. Three tentacles in his cunt, one wrapped around his prick, two plucking at his tits, a sixth slicking up his throat with delicious secretions, it was more pleasure than he’d thought his body even capable of. It was divine. He was being fucked by a _god,_ of course it was divine.

**“Say so,”** the god continued, **“tell me you’ll be mine, pet.”**

He couldn’t talk, he wasn’t even sure if it was real, but he thought _Yes. Yes, I give in._

And the god sighed in his own pleasure.

**“What a blessing you are, my treasure,”** he murmured, and his teeth scraped Steve’s scent gland.

Steve’s eyes shot wide open even in the darkness. There was little room in his head but the drag of the god’s tentacles, yet he knew what was happening as the god fitted his teeth against his neck. He thought about screaming. Another orgasm crashed over him and the god bit down. Steve’s eyes rolled back and the darkness slipped his mind again.

He felt bliss. Nothing but pure and utter bliss. That bliss overwhelmed him, filled every pore of his body and spilled over tenfold. Maybe he was dreaming all of it, because he could swear the three tentacles inside his cunt had turned into one single, massive shaft. Tentacles still pulled at his body, wrapped around his arms and legs, plucked at his nipples and tugged at his prick, but he was filled by a single cock, and a half-full knot was stretching his rim. 

He felt the god’s weight over him, the warmth of his breath panting on his neck, his hair hanging in Steve’s face. His mind was full of the god’s voice now, but there were no words, no – The god was singing that pure bliss to him, filling his head with pleasure and joy.

“Mine,” the god purred between notes.

Steve’s mouth was no longer full of the tentacle. He panted for breath, and, taken by the feeling, he exhaled, “Yes,” just to ensure the god wouldn’t stop fucking him so deliciously.

He’d never felt heat this intensely. Then again, he’d never actually taken a heat with an Alpha at his side. Was the god even an Alpha? The knot stretching his cunt seemed to point to yes, but the air in the black void did not smell of any Alpha-scent Steve knew. It smelled like the sea.

Like the tide, the bliss the god gave came and went. It crashed over him and he trembled with the force of every orgasm. It receded and he fell lax, enjoying the pure sensation of the god between his legs, thrusting into him with undaunted power. Then it gathered again, crashed, and he screamed under the god’s power with how good it felt.

Vaguely, Steve wondered if death would come on the high or low tide.

“Mine,” the god growled, his knot swollen at last.

“Yes,” Steve exhaled raspily.

The god’s knot caught on his rim and wouldn’t pop free. Steve whined with how sore he suddenly felt and the god kissed his lips, cutting off the sound. Steve panted, clenching his weak thighs one more time, and the god groaned. The god’s cock thrust one last time, deep in him and shallow in its reach, the god’s voice rose in a moan, and Steve felt very hot inside. He shuddered, the tide of pleasure crashing yet again in a finally weak orgasm, and the god’s arms pulled him in tight.

Steve had thought he was lying on his back, but the god pulled him against his chest and cradled him there as if he were lying on top of the god. Tentacles wrapped around Steve’s back and legs, covering him like a blanket, and they were warm. The god’s lips touched his forehead.

“What fool gave you away?” the god murmured. “What imbecile thought you were something to cast aside, my treasure?”

The god’s hand touched his hair and brushed down it. He lifted his hand and repeated the motion. He was petting Steve. Steve blinked his eyes open and found he could see. The darkness wasn’t eternal, it seemed. There was low firelight, orange firelight, and he was lying on the god’s chest, on a vast bed in a stone chamber. He blinked.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“Home,” the god said.

The god’s voice wasn’t inside his head or his bones or the air anymore. Steve pushed up onto his elbows and looked down. A man was lying under him. He was just a man. His face was handsome, his eyes a pale gray, cheekbones and jaw square and sharp, his chin clefted, nose strong. He just looked like a man.

Steve started to panic again. The man’s face turned upset and he gripped the back of Steve’s neck, squeezing gently.

“Tell me, my sweet,” he asked, “what’s wrong? What upsets you?”

“Who are you?” Steve blurted. “I was supposed to be eaten by the Great Old One!”

The man’s lips turned up and his brow relaxed; he chuckled. “I said you wouldn’t make a very satisfying meal, sweetheart.”

Steve shoved up and tried to sit up, but his ass flared in sensation as the man’s knot and still stiff cock shifted inside him; he gasped, dropping his hands onto the bed to catch his weight. No tentacles slid off him, rather, a heavy blanket fell away. The man touched his waist with hands that were soft and warm. 

“Relax, pet,” he said, “there is nothing that will harm you in the world anymore. You belong to me.”

“I’m about to die!” Steve snapped. “Alastar said that when my heat ended, I would die! I don’t feel like heat anymore!”  
  


The man’s eyes were abruptly a darker, fiercer gray. He frowned again.

“I purged that substance from your body,” he said. “You are divine now, my treasure, you will not die of poison, nor any other cause.”

“I’m what?” Steve spluttered.

“You’re mine,” the man said, as if that was the answer to every question Steve could possibly have.

“They poisoned me!” Steve shouted. “I’m supposed to die so you’ll send the village rain!”

The man laughed. “Pet,” he chuckled, touching Steve’s face with his warm and soft and gentle hand, “you are delicious and sweet, why would I want you to die?”

Steve just stared at him. The man moved his hand to the back of his neck.

“Lie down again, precious,” he offered, “your body will be tired. I healed your disabilities and aches in addition to the poison, it will take time for you to adjust.”

Steve did not lie down. He stared.

“You are the Great Old One,” he blurted.

The man just smiled still. “Of course I am, pet,” he answered, “what else did you expect?”

Steve sat up fully, gasping momentarily at the shift of the cock in his ass, but he sat up and rested his weight on the man’s hips, the blanket falling from him completely. He glanced down and gasped again, now shocked, and grabbed the blanket to cover his naked body. The god still smiled and put an arm under his head to watch Steve.

“Do you mean to hide yourself from me, my sweet?” he asked. “I am still inside you.”

“Why would you do any of this?” Steve demanded; his chest was tight and he didn’t know what to think. “Why would you heal me? Why not let me die?”

The god’s smile faded. He touched Steve’s knee and abruptly, Steve was on his back, knees lifted and dropped apart, and the god was leaning over him on his elbows, hips still snug against his ass. Steve gasped and grabbed onto the bed under him.

“What the fuck!” he shouted. “How did you do that?”

“I am a Great One,” the god said simply. “Why would I not heal you? You are mine.”

“I’m not yours,” Steve spat. 

The god’s eyes darkened again; like thunderclouds. He touched the side of Steve’s neck, his fingers _still_ gentle.

“You are,” he insisted.

Steve faltered. He touched his neck, too.

“You bit me,” he mumbled.

“Of course I did,” the god answered. “You’re mine.”

“Will you stop saying that?” Steve demanded. “I don’t even know your name!”

“It’s Bucky,” the god replied easily.

Steve faltered, then he laughed.

“Bucky?” he repeated. “ _Bucky?_ The priests called you something long and complicated!”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “The priests are stupid,” he said simply. “My name is Buchanan, and I go by Bucky. They call me something long and complicated because they don’t think a Great Old One is actually called Buchanan.”

“Buchanan,” Steve said.

Bucky smirked. “Don’t wear it out, love.”  
  


“You don’t know my name!” Steve accused. “And you bit me!”

“Your name’s Stiofán,” Bucky said.

Steve spluttered.

“You go by Steve or Stevie,” Bucky continued, smiling again. “I think Stevie’s adorable; like you.”

Steve shut his mouth with a snap and swallowed. His throat and chest were tight.

Bucky’s eyes softened to a clearer blue and he pressed closer, pulling Steve up and touching their foreheads together. They were lying on their sides and Steve still didn’t know how they were moving or when.

“I have always known you,” Bucky said softly. “You have always been mine.”

“I don’t understand,” Steve whispered.

Bucky traced his cheek with a finger. Steve inhaled sharply.

“You are my consort now,” Bucky said. “You are divine as I am. You are immortal. You will never experience pain or hunger again. You’re mine.”

“Are you going to send rain?” Steve asked numbly.

Bucky smiled. “Sweetheart, I would’ve sent it long before now if I could. I’m the god of the sea, not the sky.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “But –!” he spluttered. “The priests –!”  
  


“Are morons,” Bucky reminded him. “Rain will come soon and they will attribute it to us whether we want it or not. They will continue to worship us. We’ll just have to try to ignore them.”

“Us?” Steve muttered.

“Us,” Bucky said again. “Yes, sweetheart, us. We are the sea.”

“I’m not…” Steve said.

Bucky chuckled and cupped his chin, then pressed their lips together. Steve found that he just didn’t want to resist.

“We are one,” Bucky said against his lips. “You are whole now, as am I. You feel it, don’t you?”

There was an unfamiliar calm waiting to envelop him. Steve had heard that was what mating did. He hadn't thought that a god and a mortal could do it.

Steve let the calm wash over him. He settled closer and rested his head on Bucky’s chest. They were lying on Bucky’s back again and Steve didn’t question it any longer. 

“I knew Alastar was an idiot,” he mumbled. “I still hate what they did.”

“I don’t understand mortals,” Bucky admitted. “They did know that you’re mine, didn’t they? I thought that was why they trussed you up like that? But why would they, what have I ever done to make them think I would enjoy my mate being given to me in such a distressed state?”

“I wasn’t yours until you bit me,” Steve pointed out.

“Yes, you were,” Bucky insisted. “Didn’t they know you’re mine?”

Steve pushed up again. “No?” he questioned. “Why would they poison me if they knew you would mate me?”

Bucky rose up and Steve was on his back again, Bucky hovering over them.

“You have always been mine,” he insisted. “I have always known you and you have always been my mate. I was waiting for you to come to me on your own, I thought the priests figured it out?”

Steve blinked at him. Bucky’s eyes darkened.

“They did not know you are mine?” he demanded.

“Why would they poison me if they did?” Steve replied hesitantly.

Bucky’s eyes turned black. He bent and kissed him, kissed him demandingly and possessively, and he took the air right from Steve’s lungs. Again, he felt Bucky’s power as his voice echoed inside his skull, in his chest, and in the air.

**“I will rip them from their beds and burn their homes to the ground. I will cast pestilence and plague upon them. They will know doom and destruction, my treasure, and they will rue the day they put harm upon my mate.”**

Steve shivered. He only needed to think.

_Spare the village, just the priests._

Bucky broke the kiss, leaving Steve panting, and nuzzled their noses together.

**“For you, my precious,”** he rumbled. **“I will spare some of the mortals.”**

Steve tangled his hands in Bucky’s hair. He pulled him back down and brought their mouths together again. He wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist now and squeezed his ass on Bucky’s cock. Bucky chuckled, echoing everywhere and in everything.

**“If I had known you tasted so sweet coming,”** he murmured, **“I would have called you to my temple long ago.”**

“Dumbass,” Steve whispered against Bucky’s lips.

Bucky laughed again, aloud and in power. He settled his knees and thrust lazily. Steve’s breath caught and his eyes rolled back.

**“And so feisty,”** he chuckled, **“truly, you are a wonder to behold, Stevie.”**

"Don't wear it out," Steve muttered back.

**Author's Note:**

> _this was trash but i hope you enjoyed it. i'm not honestly too sure about the ending, so maybe i'll come back to this and write more, idk. the title came from[hozier's From Eden](https://genius.com/Hozier-from-eden-lyrics) btw, just tweaked a little. pls comment if you enjoyed this trash and i'll see y'all in 2020 (holy shit it's like six hours away it's a whole new decade that's fucking weird someone pinch me)_
> 
> _you can check out me out on other places on the internet if you so wish;[my twitter](https://twitter.com/moonythejedi), [my tumblr](http://moonythejedi394.tumblr.com/). no minors, please!_ you can ask me questions about my trash and i periodically reblog incredibly long posts of heartwarming pics of Our Lord and Savior Former President Barack Obama. i also have some sneaky things that i'm legally not allowed to mention on ao3 but you can find links to on my twitter and tumblr, so if you'd like access to shit like this constantly, check that out. (no seriously don't post links to your ko-fi or patreon's in your ao3 it violates the terms of use and ao3 can get in major trouble for it)


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